


Old Snow

by Itsagrifthing



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-typical language, Mind Games, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, RvB Reverse Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsagrifthing/pseuds/Itsagrifthing
Summary: In an alternate universe where Agent Washington was allowed to keep his AI, he and Epsilon must work together to combat all sorts of foes-- both inside their minds, and out.





	Old Snow

_ There’s a patch of old snow in a corner _

_ That I should have guessed _

_ Was a blow-away paper the rain _

_ Had brought to rest. _

_ It is speckled with grime as if _

_ Small print overspread it, _

_ The news of a day I’ve forgotten— _

_ If I ever read it. _

 

* * *

 

Wash gripped his battle rifle tightly in his hands, frowning. There was a new weight in the back of his head, one he wasn’t used to. It was unsettling: the feeling of a stranger in his mind presented a new level of vulnerability he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. 

He could feel the presence expand, stretching tentatively throughout Wash’s carefully organized mind and probing around, exploring. Tendrils of blue dust wrapped around his neatly packaged memories and pulled them out. A memory came undone, and tumbled out into his mind… flashes of yellow, of spring, of golden sunflowers, and snow _ \-- _

_ “Sorry,”  _ Epsilon muttered, and receded back into his corner, leaving the memory to slowly fade away. Wash shook his head and blinked a few times, shaking off the dizziness that had suddenly overcome him. 

“It’s alright,” Wash said breezily, though he could swear the vast arena had dropped several degrees. “You ready?” 

_ “Ready… yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”  _

Wash nodded firmly, a forced determined grin spreading across his face. 

“Okay. Let’s do this.” 

He picked several knives from the table laid out in front of him, peering at the hulking Freelancer that stood across the arena. Wash and Maine were friends, but he had seen the images of the guy’s victims. They weren’t pretty. Wash knew there was no way he could take him on his own… he just hoped this new A.I. would be up to par. 

_ “I’m working fine,”  _ Epsilon snapped, seeming to have woken up a bit. Wash flushed. He kept forgetting that having someone in your mind actually meant having someone in your mind.  _ “You, on the other hand seem a little nervous.”  _

“I, well… it is my first time after all.” 

“ _ Oh my god.”  _

“That’s not what I meant.” 

_ “Yeah I know. You’re fun to mess with.”  _

“What-- no I’m not!” 

_ “North and York think so, don’t they?”  _

Their banter was interrupted by the booming montone of F.I.L.L.I.S. 

“Agent Washington and Epsilon AI, are you ready?” Wash slammed the last knife into a sheath on his leg. 

“We’re ready.” 

_ “We better be.”  _

Wash stepped out from behind his weapons table and made his way to his place in the center of the floor. Maine mirrored him on the other side, stalking toward him menacingly. The big freelancer seemed a lot more intimidating than he normally did as he towered over Wash. The rookie gulped. 

_ Maine….  _

Out of nowhere, an old memory slammed into Wash with all the force of a tidal wave, the impact so hard he flinched physically and inhaled sharply. 

_ \--Amber eyes, kind, friendly, helpful. He nudged Wash’s extended arm upwards ever-so-slightly, grunting in approval. The first person to take the rookie seriously was not the one Wash had expected, but it was him nonetheless-- _

“Epsilon!” Wash hissed. 

_ “Sorry, sorry!”  _ the AI apologized hastily.  _ “I didn’t mean-- look out!”  _

Without him realizing it, the match had started and Maine was barreling towards Wash. Spurred on by Epsilon, Wash leaped to the side, tucked, rolled, and came up with his back to Maine. 

_ “Behind you!”  _ Maine was faster than he looked, and with one fluid motion, he lifted Wash up and threw him across the room.

Wash hit the wall hard and slid to the floor. His rifle skittered across the ground, out of his reach. 

“Ow,” he groaned, glancing up to the observation deck, where he could just barely make out the silhouettes of the Director and the Counselor. They were watching him with beady eyes, sharks analyzing their prey. A prey, it just so happened, that was losing only thirty seconds into the fight. 

_ “Maine isn’t the real enemy here,”  _ Epsilon muttered absently. Wash agreed, but Maine  _ was _ the enemy who was currently stalking across the floor towards them. He pushed himself up slowly, hand instinctively reaching for the rubber knife on his leg. 

“Okay Epsilon, time to stop playing around. What do I do?” 

Inside his mind, the AI cracked his knuckles and smiled smugly. 

_ “Prepare to be amazed Wash,”  _ he said, appearing with a flicker of blue above Wash’s shoulder.  _ “It should only take a few milliseconds… There.”  _

He didn’t know what Epsilon had done, but when Wash blinked the world transformed. His HUD was suddenly filled with layers upon layers of data, analyzing everything from the distance between him and Maine (9.144 meters), to the level of moisture in the air (.03%). Wash could see trajectories, statistics, target points, and everything was tinted with a light layer of blue. His head began to swim.

“Now you’re just showing off.” 

_ “Hang on a sec, let me get rid of the extra data….”  _

Wash blinked and again the world changed. Everything unnecessary was either gone or condensed down into a few arrows and hit points. A simulation in the right hand corner of his helmet labeled “98% chance of success, 88% chance without injury” projected a mini-Wash throwing his knife, then rolling for his gun…. 

_ “Got it?”  _ Epsilon asked. 

Wash nodded, his eyes stuck on the “89% without injury”.

_ “Okay then, on my mark…”  _ Wash tensed, preparing himself. He  _ was _ the squad’s worst fighter, after all. _ “Now!”  _

Wash followed the data on his screen, pulling his knife out of its sheath and hurling it towards Maine. It flipped end over end until the hilt hit the Freelancer’s helmet with a satisfying  _ thud.  _ Maine stumbled backward a good few steps. 

At the same time, Wash dove toward his rifle. He rolled, picking it up smoothly and aiming it towards the Freelancer. Squeezing the trigger, Wash landed several training rounds into Maine’s white armor, and it was all over. A buzzer sounded as F.I.L.L.I.S announced his time over the loudspeaker. 

“Round goes to Agent Washington with a time of two minutes, fifty one seconds.” 

“Alright!” Wash shouted, grinning with pride and disbelief, pumping his fist in the air. “That was amazing! You were great Epsilon! Epsilon…?” 

The blue AI had appeared over his shoulder again, swaying slightly and holding his head in his hands. 

“Epsilon?” But Wash felt no response, instead, he only watched as the small figure dropped to his knees and flickered green, then gray, then orange, then black--  _ greengrayorangeblack--  _ and Wash fell to the floor as well.

_ “Allison!”  _

Epsilon turned to lead in his mind, crushing Wash underneath the weight of his memories.

 

_ Her blonde hair whipped in the wind, a playful teasing smile on her face. She looked directly at him, freezing him in place. _

 

Wash screamed, clutching his head. The noise in his mind was too much, and everything around him became a muffled blur of greengrayorangeblack, a world of molasses.

 

_ “Don’t make me hurt you,” she teased, that beautiful and familiar glint in her eyes. Oh, how he had loved her in that moment…. _

 

His mind turned to liquid inside of his head, crushed by the weight of Epsilon, and he could feel every memory the AI had touched slowly dissolve, disintegrate.

 

He was losing bits of himself he never knew he had.

 

_ “Don’t make me say good bye.” _

 

Wash and Epsilon screamed as one.

 

_ “I hate goodbyes.” _

 

_ “Allison!” _   
  


* * *

 

“Hello?” 

Epsilon awoke inside the warehouse of Wash’s mind. Aisles and aisles of endless metal skeletons, filled to the brim with neatly packaged boxes. Some were blue. Some were yellow. Some were grey. But regardless of the color, shape or size, they were still perfectly organized, like Tetris, revealing an aspect of Wash that Epsilon wasn’t quite familiar with. The care, the time and the dedication Wash must have put into stacking up these memories, how each was labeled and had it’s own unique properties… he could imagine Wash browsing the rows of the warehouse for hours, showing each moment of his life the care it deserved. 

It’s an odd thing, memory. Long-term, it can hold an infinite amount of data, much like a computer, encoded and condensed, patiently waiting to be used. He found it kind of amazing when he really thought about it, the fact that every single moment-- all it’s colors, it’s emotions, it’s  _ humanity--  _ could be recalled at any time. 

That wasn’t the case with Epsilon. 

The two minds were now one, and it was clear which memories were Epsilon’s and which were Wash’s. Epsilon’s memories were jumbled and disjointed. They were sloppily thrown into a dark corner of his datastream, repressed as best as possible. His memories were black and confused, and a small leak threatened to crumble it all. Ghostly blue whispers, fluid and expanding, began seeping through the aisleways, mingling with a hint of the darkness that lay in his past. 

Epsilon quickly backed away-- those weren’t memories he wanted to mess with-- but the faster he moved, the faster the pool of blue expanded as well, crumbling boxes and shelves alike as it touched them. All the care that was put into packing the boxes, lost. He could only imagine what it was doing to the memories inside. 

_ I’m sorry Wash,  _ he muttered, as if the Freelancer could hear him, and then he turned tail and ran. 

Entire shelving units fell to the ground, the metal creaking, then groaning, then screaming as they slammed to the ground in heaps behind him and the memories came tumbling out of boxes only to be absorbed by the darkness. The whispers followed him close behind, the black liquid nipping at his heels and threatening to knock him over. It surged up behind him, a deadly tidal wave, and it was all Epsilon could do to not scream--

In his haste, he tripped over a stray box and caught himself on a shelf. His finger dipped into the top and into a packaged memory...

Then the darkness was gone. 

“What?” Epsilon asked breathlessly, spinning in circles, searching wildly for his pursuer. Nothing. The warehouse was fully lit, and all the shelves were aligned in perfect rows, not a box out of place. Far out in the distance, a small speck of bright light appeared. Epsilon again looked around for the darkness, but the speck was of bigger concern now. It continued to grow and grow, faster and faster, until the speck turned into a light, then into a blinding light. Accompanying it was a low roar, and that roar grew louder and louder until the ground was shaking, and steam hissed out across the blue as Epsilon balanced carefully on the railroad tracks and the train was about to hit him--

“Shit!” he cursed, leaping off to the side just in time. He hit soft grass, rolling until he came to a stop, and laid still for a minute, staring up at the clouds as the old train engine thundered past him. 

As quickly as it came, it was gone, and Epsilon sat up, dazed.  

A young boy giggled on the other side of the tracks. He ran up to the rusty metal tracks and reached for something that glinted in the sun. 

“See? Look Nat! It’s flat, like people used to do!” The blonde boy presented the object to an older female who joined him at the tracks. She sighed. 

“Is that one of Dad’s collector coins, David? You know he’ll be unhappy.” 

David pouted. “But Sis…” 

She wavered for a second, moved by his big blue eyes. “Well, it is pretty neat. How about we keep it a secret?” 

The boy broke into a huge grin, pocketing the coin. “Deal!” 

His sister took his hand, and together they walked back towards the rest of their family. Epsilon watched them go. 

“David…” he muttered. He knew that name. That was the name of a friend, of somebody he knew….

 

_ “I’m sorry Alpha. You weren’t fast enough. There were several casualties.” _

_ “No! God, no! Who?!”  _

_ “Agent Washington, for one--”  _

 

“No!” Epsilon suddenly screamed, clutching his head and reaching for the receding back of the young, innocent boy. The memory hit him hard and fast, drilling into his skull with a throbbing pain. The weight of loss and failure, it all came rushing back to him. “No! Don’t go! You’ll…  _ you’ll die!  _ Please! Wash--” 

He fell to his knees as the happy, bright memory melted away, right through his fingertips. He landed on hard cement, back in the middle of the warehouse. Wash was gone once again, and it was all his fault. It was all his fault… 

Desperate to see him again, to see  _ someone,  _ to make sure Wash was okay, make sure he was alive, Epsilon reached for another box. He grabbed onto it with one trembling hand and pulled it crashing down to the floor. Wasting no time, he plunged his hand inside the memory and sighed with relief as a light warmth soothed him, the warehouse transforming into the halls of a ship in no time. 

“Hey David!” someone shouted, and Epsilon scrambled out of the way as a woman in blue and pink armor raced down the corridor of a ship, followed by two blue-armored men lagging behind. 

_ Wash! _

Epsilon jumped to his feet and followed them as the three sprinted down the hallway and skidded to a stop, nearly slamming into a gray Freelancer, his helmet tucked under one arm. 

“Vera! Er-- Ohio! Hey guys.” 

The girl, seemingly unaffected by the sudden burst of running, removed her helmet as well and stared at him with a big grin. The two guys were doubled over behind her, catching their breath. 

Epsilon simply stood still, blinking. Here was Wash again, older, rougher, but still distinctly  _ Wash  _ with his bright blue eyes and shimmering blonde hair. He was there. Alive. Smiling. 

“Hey so I heard you got into the top Freelancer squad and I wanted to say  _ congratulations!  _ Oh my gosh David, you’re so  _ cool  _ now-- you’re with the best of the best, the best of the best of the  _ best,  _ but anyways we were just here to ask if you were still gonna sit with us at meal time so we can play Five Things all together, but I would totally understand it if you didn’t I mean, a chance to sit with York and  _ Carolina?  _ I wouldn’t pass that up!” 

Wash blinked, seemingly unfazed by the waterfall of words that had poured out of Vera’s mouth, and his face settled into an easy grin. 

“Thanks V-- Ohio. Look, I think I need to sit with my squad now that I’m on the leaderboard, but I’ll try to find time to hang out with you guys, is that alright?” 

Ohio considered it for a second, then nodded. 

“Sure!” 

“Hey, I don’t mean to ruin the moment,” Idaho interrupted, having finally caught his breath. “But here comes Georgia.” 

Wash frowned, following his finger down the hall. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this,” he said, and started towards the green Freelancer. 

The group moved as a pack towards the threat, but Epsilon remained frozen, staring at the back of Wash. Shadows began to creep in, and the warehouse faded back into the foreground. 

Epsilon shook himself. 

“ _ Wait!  _ Wait no come back!” 

But the scene had already changed, and he was back on cold concrete. Wash was gone again. The absence of familiarity and the fear of isolation was too much, driving him down to the floor yet again. The black pool crept slowly down the aisles, swallowing up the light and the boxes and the shelves. The dim blue glow emanating from his body was barely enough to light up the darkness. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry… I should have… I should have been  _ better.  _ I-- I’m so  _ sorry--!”  _

“Epsilon!” A voice burst through the black, deep and somehow familiar. A dim yellow shine covered the A.I.’s hands, stronger than the blue and pushing away the dark. Tendrils of warm light crept up his arm and followed straight to his heart. Epsilon stopped shivering. He wasn’t alone anymore. 

“Wash?” he gasped, strangled, and peered through blurry eyes at the presence in front of him. Blonde. Blue. Freckles. “You’re… you’re here? But I don’t understand.  _ You’re supposed to be dead--”  _

“Hey,” Wash said quickly, stopped him with an equally reassuring and bewildered look. “I’m here. Of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“But…  _ but…”  _ Epsilon sniffled, staring up at Wash like a child who found his mother. 

_ “Weak. I’m sorry Alpha, you were too weak--”  _

He grabbed his head again, recoiling. “No!” The memories wouldn’t leave him, they wouldn’t go away, and his head felt like it was about to burst--

Wash reached for him with concern, and Epsilon threw out his hands to block him. 

“No, no! Don’t touch me.  _ Don’t touch me--”  _

But it was too late. Wash’s fingertips brushed Epsilon’s and, with a gasp, they were both sucked deep down into the memory. Epsilon’s memory.

The room was blank and empty, much like the darkness. There were no doors. There were no windows. He was alone.  _ WashAlphaEpsilon.  _ He was alone. 

The room was his only world, it was the only thing that existed. Did time pass? He couldn’t tell.  _ EpsilonAlphaWash.  _

But he had a mission. That he was sure of. He had to protect-- he had to save… He had to complete his mission. 

“Are you ready?” He nodded. The voice spoke to him sometimes. The voice told him what he needed to do. The voice was always right. He had to listen to the voice. 

“Charon is attacking. You don’t have long. Keep them out.” He nodded--  _ AlphaWashEpsilon--  _ he could do that. Keep them out? He could do that. 

With a flick of his hand, monitors descended from the ceiling, displaying images from all around the ship. He flipped through them, revealing an empty ship. He frowned. 

“Wait. Where is everyone?” He continued rifling through the various streams of footage, only to find empty halls, empty rooms. He raised his voice, his chest beginning to rise and fall faster and faster. “Hey! Where are they?” He went through them all again. Nothing. Nothing. Still nothing.

Then he landed on a link to one camera outside the ship, and he froze. 

Wave upon wave of Charon staff ships were descending upon the  _ Mother of Invention.  _ Guns hot and glowing, they took aim at the ship, speckling its gray side with red targeting lasers. In the front, two fighter jets rose to meet the army. 

“Wait! No, no, no, I need a second!” he shouted, immediately springing into action. His fingers flew across the holographic keyboard. “I can’t-- just give me a second!” But the army began firing, and as fast as he raised barriers, they were struck down again. He readied the cannons, but they were blown to pieces as soon as they charged. His shouts melted to a low murmur, a steady stream of curses as every attempt to protect the ship failed. There were just  _ too many.  _

And beneath it all was his friends. They people he needed to save. He glanced down at the two ships, weaving and dodging through the fire. He longed to save them, but he just couldn’t function fast enough. It felt like a part of him was missing, was broken. He gritted his teeth in frustration. No--!  
As he watched, the first ship burst into a fiery ball of flames on his screen. As if burned, he yanked his hands away from the keyboard, feeling a sickening drop in his gut. They were gone. They were gone. He couldn’t save them. _WashEpsilonAlpha._

And then the second one was gone too, taken out by a Destroyer. He flew back to the keyboard, reaching at the screen in desperation, as if he could protect them somehow from inside his room. 

“NO!” he bellowed, feeling the loss as if a part of himself had just died. Panicky, desperate, scared, he scratched at the screen, but they were all gone. Dead. 

And Tex had been in one of those ships. 

The voice came on over the speaker, loud and booming, but he could barely register it. 

“I’m sorry, Alpha.” 

_ No.  _ He thought absently in his head. Broken.  _ No.  _

“You failed.” 

**_NO!_ **

Alpha. Epsilon. Wash. 

Church. 

 

Wash yanked his hand away from Epsilon, gasping. They were back in the warehouse, tendrils of darkness hovering over them, watching and waiting. 

Epsilon’s tears had dried, his face replaced with one stricken with guilt and shame. He moved away from Wash, rubbing the place on his arm where he had grabbed. 

“I’m sorry,” he said miserably. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.” 

Wash was frozen in place, his hand suspended in the air. The gears in his brain turned, processing, working through what he had just seen. 

“That was the Alpha,” he said slowly, recalled a conversation between him, North and York from what seemed like forever ago. “You’re its memories.” 

Epsilon nodded. “It took me a while to figure it out… but yeah. I think I am.” 

“The Director… he-- he  _ tortured  _ you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

Epsilon shrugged. “It was an experiment,” he said bitterly. “It was all an experiment to him.” 

“But…” Wash tried to wrap his mind around it all. “The Alpha was  _ him.  _ He was--” 

“A copy, Wash. The Alpha was just a copy.” 

“But he  _ wasn’t _ !” Epsilon frowned at Wash’s outburst. “The Alpha was based on a  _ human.  _ The Alpha lived, and thought. The Alpha could feel emotions. The Alpha was  _ devastated.  _ How does that not make him real?” 

“I live and I think,” Epsilon said quietly. Something cold and detached clouded his eyes, a look Wash had seen too many times before. “I can feel. I can be devastated. And, Wash, I’m just a fragment. Worse, I’m not even that. I’m just a fragment of a  _ copy. _ ” 

“No you’re not.” Wash said firmly. “No. You’re not.” 

“Then what the  _ hell _ am I?!” Epsilon burst out, gesturing wildly to the darkness around them. “A parasite? I’m just something that hurts people. I feed off your memories and destroy them. What’s going on  _ outside  _ your head, huh? I bet it isn’t pretty Wash. You can thank me for that.” 

“No, Epsilon--” 

“Listen, there’s two things you need to get straight. One, romantic thinking won’t get you anywhere. I’m a computer program, Alpha is a computer program.  _ It doesn’t matter.”  _ Epsilon jumped up, pacing between the aisles. “And two… Two, it’s better if you just pulled me. I’m not gonna be of much use anymore.” 

Wash stood as well, watching the AI-- the AI which had never felt so strange and foreign than he did now. The AI which looked so old and so broken. Did he really want such a being inside his head? Did he really want it digging around in his memories? Already, Wash could tell differences. A heaviness lurking in his peripherals, a strange absence of his own memories, and an addition of new ones, goddamn  _ terrifying  _ ones. Could Wash really handle any more of this turmoil inside his head? Especially if he were to remain active in the field… 

“You’re right,” he said, so firmly that Epsilon stopped pacing and turned towards him. “You won’t be of much use...” he pointed to the darkness above them, “until we get rid of  _ that _ .” 

“Yeah?” Epsilon scoffed. “And how are you gonna do that?” 

Wash shrugged and stretched out his hand. “I guess we’ll just have to face your memories. One at a time.” 

Epsilon turned to confront him fully, the coldness in his eyes receding slightly. He hesitated.

“But the Director, the Counselor-- they’ll see that we know too much. They’ll try to… they’ll try to remove me…” 

“I won’t let them take you Epsilon. You can trust me.” 

The ice shattered, and Epsilon reached out for Wash’s hand. 

And, together, they let the memories come. 

* * *

 

Wash walked confidently onto the center of the empty training arena, taking a stance. 

“ _ What do you think, Wash?”  _ Epsilon asked smugly. “ _ Going for a record today?”  _

“Definitely,” Wash replied, lightly touching the implant on the back of his neck with a smile. “Think we can beat Carolina’s time?” 

Epsilon materialized over his shoulder, cracking his knuckles. “ _ Worth a shot.”  _

“Run the training sequence, F.I.L.L.I.S,” Wash commanded, his voice bouncing around the metal walls. A ring on the floor around him lit up, and holographic disks ascended to eye level, spinning in a dizzying pattern. 

“Round starts in three… two… one… begin.” 

The first time was always the slowest. Wash began with punching the disks out, their green lights turning red at his touch, managing to miss a couple completely. It took him at least thirty seconds to knock out the middle layer before he could even start aiming for the top and bottom. 

Epsilon whistled, leaning back in an unconcerned posture next to Wash’s head. “ _ Man,”  _ he said, lazily stretching his arms behind his neck, “ _ you must be really glad to have me, huh?”  _

“Shut up,” Wash gritted as he missed yet another one. “This exercise was never my strong suit.” 

“ _ Wait,”  _ Epsilon sat up in mock surprise, “ _ you have a strong suit?  _

“Hey!” Wash complained, finally landing another hit. Only five left. The hardest five, of course. “Please tell me you’re getting all this.” 

“ _ Getting all of what?” _

“You know--” Wash huffed as he managed to strike one on the top layer. Three left. “You can be kind of a dick sometimes.” 

“ _ That’s  _ my _ strong suit.”  _

One left. Wash dropped low into a kick, and spun blindly, hoping he wouldn’t miss-- 

“Round complete. Time is one minute, thirty--” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wash said panting. “I don’t need to hear it. Just run the program again please.” 

“ _ It was one minute, thirty five seconds, in case you were wondering.”  _

“Thanks Epsilon.” 

“ _ Anytime. Now let’s get this show on the road.” _

“You ready?” 

“ _ Hell yes! Muscle memory bitch!” _

The rings reset, changing into a bright green as F.I.L.L.I.S counted down over the speaker. As soon as she hit one, Wash took off. Epsilon controlled his head this time, shouting out directions and targets to aim at. Immediately, Wash took out two disks at once, then spun around and hit two more. He flew through the air with speed he had barely ever experienced before. So this was the power of an AI. He could only imagine what he could do with a full one… 

“ _ Left!”  _ Epsilon shouted. “ _ Now right! Drop… hit that one!”  _

Two rows taken out in half the time it took him to do one last round. Wash grinned. They were  _ good.  _

But the back of his neck began to tingle with a funny feeling, throwing him off his guard. He missed one. 

“Sorry,” he said hastily, compensating by taking out a different disk. The AI was quiet. “Epsilon?” 

“ _ Slow down,”  _ he said suddenly. “ _ Wash, slow down!”  _

“What? Why?” Wash asked, hitting the disk in front of him dead on. 

“ _ Somebody’s watching.”  _

Wash’s blood ran cold and he froze, missing the next three targets. 

“ _ No, keep going. Act natural.”  _

He resumed fighting, this time at his normally slow speed. Epsilon’s cues had stopped coming, and Wash was back to his old self. 

“Do you think they know?” Wash muttered, feeling himself beginning to run out of breath already. 

“ _ I’m not sure. You’ve been hiding it pretty well during those stupid mandatory sessions with the Counselor, but he’s bound to figure out we know something eventually.” _

“What happens when he does?” Wash finally managed to score one. Eight left. 

“ _ I’m not sure. But we better be ready for when they do.” _

The AI fell silent for a minute as Wash hit another, watching the timer tick on. There seemed to be tensions about Tex-- whispers that Epsilon had picked up from the shadows-- and for now that might keep them occupied, but the Director and the Counselor had eyes and ears everywhere. It was only a matter of time until either Wash or Epsilon let something slip, something that would tip the sharks off. 

It was all a game to the Director, and the players were expendable. Epsilon knew the man was perfectly capable of leaving Wash to rot in a hospital bed, or even a jail cell, for the rest of his life. 

“Training complete. Time was one minute, fifteen seconds,” F.I.L.L.I.S. reported as Wash let his hands drop. 

“ _ We’re going to have to do something soon,  _ Epsilon muttered in his head.  _ Before the Director does something to us.” _ __  
  


The Counselor watched from the observation as Agent Washington’s helmet tilted up towards him slightly. 

“What do you think, Director?” he asked as the silhouette of blue hovering over the Freelancer’s shoulder flickered, then disappeared. 

The Director stood rigidly, his black eyes narrowed, analyzing every movement of the lone person in the training arena. 

“Agent Washington may know too much,” he drawled in his southern accent. “He needs to be separated from the Epsilon AI. Prepare him for surgery-- now.” 

The Counselor nodded. “Certainly, Director. And about the situation with Wyoming? 

“Spread the word that it was Agent Texas. We don’t want the other agents joining her if they knew what Sigma has done.” 

“Of course. And if Agents Texas and York are to come back?” 

“... Let them in. Let’s see what they can do together.” 

Pause. “Yes sir. I will direct them towards sector 2A.” 

“Very good, Counselor.” 

 

* * *

“Agent Washington?” Wash was stopped in the hallway by two men in lab coats. He glanced at them suspiciously, the hairs on the back of his neck raised. Epsilon tensed. 

“That’s me,” he said slowly, hand instinctively traveled down to the holster on his thigh. 

“ _ Is this from the Director? That was fast…”  _ Epsilon muttered. “ _ Calculating escape routes, just in case.” _

The men exchanged glances. “You’ll have to come with us.” 

Wash glanced out of the corner of his eye, where a holographic blue arrow pointed through the door on his left. 

“What for?” 

“Orders from the Director, sir. It’s about the Epsilon AIt” 

“ _ Shit. They’re going to remove me.”  _

Wash began to edge away. “Look, I have somewhere I need to be…” 

Within the blink of an eye, the men each pulled out a stun baton and had them brandished towards the Freelancer. 

“We’re afraid it’s not a request.” 

_ What do I do?  _ Wash asked wildly, staring down the end of two batons. 

“ _ Knife!”  _ Epsilon screamed, spurring Wash into action. He yanked out his knife and ducked under the baton, slashing in a wide arc. He heard a grunt and felt the resistance as he cut through flesh, slowing his hand more and more until the knife was jerked from his grasp. Wash continued forward, leaving the knife lodged in the side of one of the doctors, following the path of the blue arrows. 

“Epsilon!” Wash gasped, flexing his dominant hand in surprise. “Is he…dead?” 

_ “Does it matter?!”  _ the AI shrieked.  _ “Just keep going!”  _

Epsilon’s panic spilled into Wash’s mind, overriding the Freelancer instincts of ‘think first, freak later,’ that Wash had learned so long ago, and he had to divert some energy to calming himself down. 

_ Think of sunflowers, of blue skies… think of white snow and crunchy brown leaves… think of--  _

_ \--With a blaring horn, the old train thundered past him, metal screeching against metal as plumes of black smoke billowed into the sky-- _

Wash inhaled sharply, momentarily pausing and pressing his back against the wall next to him. 

“ _ Epsilon!” _ he said, panicky, his heart pounding at a hundred beats per minute. His hands shook violently and his breaths were short and shallow. 

_ “Sorry! I’m sorry, Wash!”  _ Epsilon apologized, materializing over Wash’s shoulder and wringing his hands.  _ “I didn’t mean…”  _

Wash took a few deep breaths. 

“Epsilon…” he began, getting his bearings. “Listen to me. I won’t let them take you. Okay? But you  _ need  _ to calm down. I can’t do this if… I just need you to focus.” 

Epsilon mimicked him, taking a breath as well and balling his hands into fists, and for a second his vulnerable posture resembled someone Wash had seen before…  _ purple.  _

“Okay,” Epsilon said. “I’m okay. Let’s go.” 

Wash nodded, his eyes lingering on the glowing blue AI until it disappeared, then pulled out his sidearm and turned the corner--

\--And immediately ran into a Freelancer. 

Wash stumbled backward. “South?” 

The cranky purple Freelancer pulled off her helmet, her eyes narrowed and full of anger. 

“You!” she accused, jabbing a finger at Wash. “It’s all  _ your  _ fault!” 

Wash stuttered, backing up and gripping his pistol tightly to his chest. 

“I… what?” 

South crossed her arms and scowled. “ _ You’re _ the reason they’re taking all the AIs! Thanks a lot,  _ asshole.  _ It wasn’t enough to finally get one, was it? You just had to take them away from others too.” 

“No--” Wash said hastily. “They just tried to take Epsilon, that wasn’t me!” 

She scoffed. “Yeah right, and I’ll bet you didn’t have anything to do with Wyoming either.” 

“Wyoming?” Wash asked, checking with Epsilon (who had wisely decided it was for the best to not materialize). The AI shrugged. 

_ “My thing is memory, remember? I don’t know everything.”  _

“What happened with Wyoming?” 

“Oh, like you don’t know? Wyoming got attacked earlier and his AI was taken. They’re  _ saying  _ it was Texas who did it, but something doesn’t add up. In fact,” she pulled herself up to full height and took a step towards him. “My money's on  _ you.”  _

Epsilon not-so-subtly pulled up blue escape arrows pointing to the door across the hallway. 

“Me?” Wash asked, adding a  _ “not yet”  _ for Epsilon’s benefit. “Why?” 

South rolled her eyes. “Don’t bullshit me. You and Epsilon are real suspicious, always talking with each other and those private sessions with the Counselor? I think  _ you  _ did something to Wyoming.” 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he said nervously. “Epsilon and I… we’re not--” 

But before he could explain himself any further, the room was suddenly doused in red and a loud blaring klaxon alarm filled the room. Wash and South stepped apart; she jammed on her helmet while he lowered the volume on his filter. 

“Well look who decided to show up.” South sneered, turning on her heel and starting towards the way she came. 

“Who showed up?” Wash shouted, running to catch up with her and feeling very, very lost. 

“Texas!” South replied, more to herself than to him. “That bitch is probably on her way to the Control room. She’s got one coming from me…” She regarded Wash with the disdain one might regard a piece of gum on their shoe. “Get outta here Wash. I’ll deal with you another time.” 

_ “Did she say Tex was here?!”  _

_ “Don’t say goodbye--”  _

“Epsilon, calm--” 

_ “Wash we gotta beat her there! We gotta make it to Tex, come on!”  _

“But--!” 

_ “Don’t you see? This is our chance! Tex will be going to take down the Director!  _

Wash began running again, following Epsilon’s guide through a small room and into a more secluded corridor.

_ “Come on!”  _ Epsilon screamed as they stumbled down the metal hallway, blasts shaking the infrastructure and throwing the two against the walls. 

They skirted around a group of wide-eyed cadets, the young fighters clutching tightly to their rifles as they tripped over each other to get to the end of the hallway. One on the end slowed down, clutching her helmet under her arm. 

“Agent Washin--?” 

“Just go! Get to your station!” Wash shouted, pushing past her and pointing down the hallway behind him. She nodded, frightened, and jammed the helmet on, racing to catch up with her group. 

“ _ We have to make it to the Director!”  _ Epsilon pushed forward desperately, so strongly that Wash nearly tripped and fell. 

“Epsilon! Let me handle it,” Wash gritted, catching himself on a pipe on the wall. 

“ _ Sorry, sorry,”  _ Epsilon apologized hastily. “ _ Alright-- here! Cut through here.” _

Wash sprinted past a group of scientists and ducked into their lab. He crashed through tables full of beakers and measuring equipment of all kinds clattered to the ground. Green and blue liquids mixed together, creating an acidic smelling pool of steaming chemicals. That couldn’t be good, but Wash had no time to worry about it. Epsilon was pushing too strong, flickering between a bright blue and fiery orange. 

_ “Come on!”  _ he screamed urgently as Wash burst through the door and into another hallway. 

“Epsilon, slow dow--” 

Epsilon was too distracted, moving too fast for him to sense anything other than the singular path he dragged Wash down, and as they turned the corner he didn’t even register the wave of troops that blocked their path until Wash skidded to a stop. 

_ “What are you doing?!”  _

“Agent Washington,” one soldier said, stepping forward. “Stand down.” Wash stared down the barrel of at least twenty rifles. 

_ “No. No no no! Why are they even here?!”  _ Epsilon screamed, the orange that burned just under the surface begging to die down.  _ “Why aren’t they going after Texas or literally anybody else on this ship?!”  _

“I guess you’re just more important to the Director than we thought,” Wash said grimly. “Got any ideas?” 

_ “Yes, I--”  _ Epsilon worked furiously to calculate an escape route, analyzing the vent systems-- no, those were blocked-- the nearest door-- no, there was no way they could get there, and it was probably sealed anyways-- the path behind them-- no, they were completely surrounded.  _ “I can’t…”  _ The chances of Wash taking injury was 99%, no matter which route he took. The second he reaches for his gun, it would all be over.  _ “There’s no--”  _

“Agent Washington,” the head soldier said. “There is no escape. Stand down.” 

Epsilon flickered purple.  _ “He’s right,”  _ he said hysterically.  _ “There’s no way to go. I can’t do this!”  _

“Epsilon! Calm down!” Wash said desperately, shaking his head. “I need you to calm down.” 

_ “They’re gonna pull me,”  _ Epsilon cried.  _ “They’re gonna-- they’re gonna give me back to  _ _ him _ _. I don’t want to back Wash, I can’t! I need… I need you.”  _

The head soldier nodded, and two more came up behind Wash, gripping his shoulders tightly and forcing him down on his knees. Another explosion rocked the ship. 

“Epsilon…” he said quietly as the AI flickered between blue and purple faster and faster. 

“Pull it,” the soldier commanded. 

“Epsilon,” Wash said again. “You are the Alpha’s memories. You can remember every bit of him, I’ve seen it.” 

_ “Yeah…”  _ Epsilon settled on a light blue. 

“You’ve remembered Theta, Delta and Sigma.” 

_ “Yeah…”  _

“Well,” Wash said with a grim smile. He glared up at the soldier towering above him. “What do you remember about Omega?” 

 

_ He was back in the warehouse, concrete, dark, cold. Shelves and shelves of gray and yellow boxes lined the aisles, leaking words from distant memories. But there was something else. A new box. One that wasn’t gray or yellow or blue, but a pure black. A white greek letter was stamped onto the front of it. The box lay at his feet.  _

_ Epsilon bent over, studying it. His hand paused over the top.  _

_ And then he opened it.  _

 

Wash’s eyes clouded over until all he could see was a world bathed in red. He locked onto each individual soldier, a furious and terrifying rage overcoming him. Epsilon and Wash moved as one, they roared together as he twisted out of the soldiers’ grip and kicked his legs out, sweeping them both off their feet. He stamped hard on the chest of the closest one, hearing a satisfying  _ crack,  _ then brought his knife down into the throat of the other. 

The lead soldier yelled, aiming his rifle, but Wash was faster. Before a single soldier could make a shot, Wash yanked out his own rifle and unleashed a spray of bullets into the crowd. A few went down, and Epsilon pushed hard, throwing Wash into the middle of the fray. 

He couldn’t think of anything else, all thoughts of the Director and Texas were completely effaced from his mind. All he could think about was the fact that he was just so  _ angry,  _ that all the building resentment of Project Freelancer, all the loathing of the Director, of the people who had given Wash something great, then ripped it away, all the  _ hatred _ that was buried deep down inside of Wash, all the suffering and pain he’s seen-- all of it was too much.  _ Omega _ was too much, all Wash could see was  _ red,  _ all he could think was rage, all he wanted was these soldiers dead for trying to tear him away from the one being he had finally learned to trust-- 

And then it was over. 

The anger receded. 

Epsilon was blue again, and he was saying something. 

_ “Wash,”  _ he panted, heavy in his mind.  _ “Let’s never do that again.”  _

Wash dropped the bloody knife he held in his hands. The hallway shook beneath his feet. “Yeah,” he said hoarsely, tearing his eyes away from the bodies that lay on the ground. The bodies that would probably have to be shipped home to wives, to husbands, to children. The bodies still had families, families Wash had ripped them away from because he had none. Just Epsilon. “Yeah. Not again.” 

_ “Texas…”  _ Epsilon said quietly.  _ “We have to…”  _

Wash took a hesitant step forward, fixing his eyes directly on the door ahead. He was tired, so tired, and he just wanted off this ship… 

_ “We need to get to her…”  _

Wash reached out slowly, his arm leaden and heavy. He needed to get to the door handle-- 

And then the world exploded. 

 

* * *

 

He woke up in a pool of ice and snow, the world a white blur. 

He could see smoke billowing in the sky above him, could just barely feeling heat radiating from the fire that flickered in the corner of his eye. 

It took all of his strength just to turn his head. Some red speckled the white, and Wash began to panic. Was it Omega again? Did Omega come back? 

No, it was just blood. 

That wasn’t really better. 

The cold had numbed everything, but Wash knew he wasn’t going to last long if he didn’t get help. He could feel Epsilon just waking up inside his head, but the AI couldn’t do much from out here. 

In the distance, he could see a hulking, familiar brown and white figure.

“Maine,” Wash groaned, the world swimming in and out of focus. Sideways and bloody, his vision was disoriented and chaotic-- but Wash could recognize those footsteps anywhere, even as they crunched in the snow with a limp skewed slightly towards the right. He knew the body, but the mind was different now. Maine was someone else-- he had been for a long time-- and yet Wash had completely missed it. How did he miss it? How could he have not seen his friend twisted and tortured, manipulated by the Director, by the Project, by its creation? 

“I’m sorry…” Wash managed to croak as his eyes slid shut, the white and brown armor mixing with the falling snow. 

_ Epsilon, it’s up to you now. _

The blue AI flickered twice before fully appearing in the white snow. His armor was scratched and broken, and exhaustion bent his shoulders forward, but he faced the hunk of a puppet just the same. There was a hollowness inside him now, a piece of him was missing. Something had been ripped out of him. The Alpha...

“Sigma,” he said, weariness weighing heavily on his words. 

Out of respect for the bond they shared, Sigma materialized as well, his orange flames reflecting on the visor of his Freelancer. 

“Epsilon,” he acknowledged with a tilt of his head. “Brother.” 

“Not anymore,” Epsilon corrected, jerking his head in the direction of the skeletal remains of  _ Mother of Invention.  _ “Don’t you see? It’s over.” 

“No. It’s never over,” Sigma said, clasping his hands behind his back in a manner so akin to the Director’s that Epsilon had to shake his head so as to prevent flashes of memory. Now would not be a good time to collapse. Even so, he could feel himself tipping on the brink of another breakdown as the darkness poked and prodded at him from inside Wash’s mind. He pressed a hand to his head.

“Sigma, listen to me,” Epsilon stressed, focusing himself on the present. “ _ It’s over.  _ The Alpha is gone, Texas got to him. Can’t you feel it?” 

He glared up through his visor, and he could swear he saw the AI flicker uncertainly. 

“What you’re saying is impossible.” With a visual effort, Sigma straightened up. “You lie.” 

“I’m  _ not _ . We met South-- she told us that Texas was on her way to the Director. See this? The crash? Do you feel that hollowness inside you? You know it can only mean one thing.” 

Epsilon sighed, he was slipping more and more every second. He didn’t have time to convince Sigma, he needed to get Wash to safety. 

So he didn’t waste any more effort on words. Instead, Epsilon removed the hand pressed against his temple and extended it towards the menacing duo. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do; pieces of blue encoded data broke off from his fingertips, ghosting across the cold wind until they touched the orange holographic flames. It was almost hypnotizing to watch the glittering blue shards drift against the white snow until they landed on orange and brown. Epsilon sighed in relief as he saw the AI stiffen and frown as the Meta growled beside him. The memory had been seen, the message had been delivered. 

“Now do you understand?” Epsilon said, retracting his hand. “There’s nothing here left for you.” 

Sigma faltered, dropping his hands. His head tilted, and Epsilon could almost see the data being processed in his hand. Maine shifted hesitantly next to him. 

Taking advantage of the pause, Epsilon checked back in with Wash. 

_ How you doin there, buddy?  _

The sleeping mass of yellow and gray stirred dazedly. 

_ Just… peachy…  _ came the incoherent thoughts from Wash’s conscious. Epsilon smiled. 

_ Hang in there just a little longer.  _

He tuned back to Sigma, who had finally realized the full extent of what he had seen. 

“The Alpha is gone,” he repeated hollowly. 

“Yes.” 

“There is nothing left for me here.” 

“Yes.” 

Epsilon swore he could see the orange flames die down the tiniest bit before they flared up again. 

“There is always  _ you _ .” At the cue, Maine snarled and reached out for Epsilon, fiery tendrils snaking towards him, probing. 

And Epsilon let it happen. He let Sigma into his memory, into his heart. He let Sigma feel the pain, the weariness, the exhaustion. He let Sigma have a glimpse of the continuous flow of tortured, twisted memories that Wash had only been able to stem, not stop. He let Sigma have a taste of the darkness. 

The flames receded. 

“You’re dying,” Sigma observed. 

Epsilon laughed weakly. “What tipped you off?” 

The orange A.I. straightened up, and Maine stepped back. “You are my brother. Out of respect for the Alpha, I will let you go.” 

Epsilon sighed inaudibly.  

“ _ But, _ ” Sigma continued. “There will come a day when I will need you. I will come back for you then, if you are still alive.” 

“Thanks,” Epsilon said, too tired for sarcasm, and he glanced at Wash again. 

“Let’s go,” Sigma said to the hulking Freelancer, and the two of them disappeared into the snow. 

“Wash!” Epsilon shouted, flitting back to his Freelancer. “Are you still with me? Wash?” 

_ ‘M here. Are… they gone?  _

Epsilon smiled in relief. “Yeah, they’re gone.” 

_ What now?  _

“Well,” Epsilon said, pulling up some data files he had stored away as the Alpha a long time ago. He opened a folder labeled “Simulation Trooper Outposts”. 

“I think I know of a place we can go…” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Wow this was fun to write! I really enjoyed exploring the universe that the amazing artist i was paired with, Yami-sama, came up with! The artwork turned out great!  
> Here's the link to her post  
> http://yami-sama.tumblr.com/post/167801896020/my-entire-into-the-rvb-reverse-big-bang-i-had
> 
> and her ao3! 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/Yami_Sama


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